


Adjusting

by bog wump (bogwump)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Banter, Character Study, Gen, My First Work in This Fandom, Post-Canon, Unfinished, and him and Malik are living together in Domino City trying to figure out the redemption thing, and they were ROOMMATES, not super shippy, rated teen cos bakura says fuck, the Post-Canon thing where TKB's spirit is brought back and slapped into a fresh new bod
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22455796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bogwump/pseuds/bog%20wump
Summary: It's not that Bakura isn't grateful for a second chance at life...but "moving on" from a 5,000-year long revenge quest where your soul was merged with a god of evil is easier said that done.A little post-canon Bakura character study.
Relationships: Thief King Bakura/Marik Ishtar, Yami Bakura & Marik Ishtar, Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Kudos: 9





	Adjusting

Life was disgustingly loud in the heart of Domino City, and it drove the spirit of the ring crazy. No matter where he was in his little apartment, from the living room lined with street-facing windows to the kitchen connected to the building's noisy hallway, the spirit could always hear birds chirping, basslines thumping out of passing cars, or the downright abhorrent sound of strangers chattering away about whatever stupid shit was going on in their tedious lives. And this is all generously assuming that there isn’t a ruckus being caused from within the apartment’s thin walls. Compare this to his old life, his previous life, as the Thief King in ancient Egypt. What he wouldn't give to spend one fucking night like he spent so many back then, in the middle of the desert with nothing but the rustling of reeds or the shifting of sand to pollute the quiet air.

That's why he currently had his head submerged under the water in his bath tub. It was no open, wild desert Oasis lined with bristling papyrus. In fact when he had his head submerged like this, it forced him to lift his knees out of the water and practically cram them against the cheap tile wall to still fit in the meager tub, but it was momentary reprieve from his noisy life. His new life. He opened his eyes and his vision blurred, he saw the edges of his silvery hair sway around his peripheral vision. He tried to think of nothing, and focus on the sound of bubbles escaping his lips and burbling to the water's surface. He realized he could hear his own heartbeat through the water. Gross.

Bakura pushed his head back up out of the perfumed water and wiped his eyes.

"If you're trying to drown yourself, you're doing an awful job, Bakura."

Bakura's eyes widened but at the same time, he was completely unsurprised that his roommate didn’t announce his presence. Malik was not there just a moment ago, but now he was leaning over the sink, carefully removing his heavy gold earrings and placing them in a bowl on the counter, his eyes glued to the mirror and his position slumped like he'd been there long enough to get good and comfortable.

"Couldn't you worship your reflection in one of the other thousand of your mirrors in this house?"

"I don't know. Couldn't you plan out your antisocial fits for the middle of the night, or when I'm at work, or any other time I wouldn't need our only bathroom?"

"But nobody makes me want to be around other people less than you."

"Such a sweet talker," Malik turned his attention to the marginally evil, ancient Egyptian presence sneering at him from the bathtub, "did you use an entire bottle of my expensive bath oil? For Ra's sake, Bakura, it smells like a bushel of lotuses exploded in here."

Bakura grinned widely, immensely satisfied. The smell of lotus reminded him of perfumes he robbed from graves. He was never good at moderation with those either...or with most things, really.

"How was dinner with Ishizu? I bet she was delighted I didn't decide tag along. Perish the thought I say something scandalous that shocks her virgin ears."

"It’s shocking we managed dinner without you there to antagonize her and tuck silverware into your sleeves." Malik retorted with his usual banter, but Bakura felt it lacked his usual playfulness. He looked tired.

"What went wrong?"

Malik’s shoulders stiffened, "Fuck you. What are you, a therapist now? You can't go five minutes with my family without causing a stir but you're going to sort out *my* problems?"

As lively as it was when both of them let a little blowup turn into a full-blown fight, Bakura didn’t have the energy. He ‘knew this wasn’t really about him’ or whatever it is Ryou always says when he wants to dismiss Bakura’s sporting attempts at instigation. That brat always has been smarter than him. “Just skip it, Malik. Tell me what’s wrong or walk off in a huff, I’m not in the mood for the foreplay.”

Malik’s eyes narrowed and he fixed Bakura with a glare. Bakura knew Malik well enough, Malik only glared when he wasn’t sure what to say; too quick on the trigger when he’s angry, too smug when he’s winning to waste time building tension.

“You’re a bitch.” Malik slammed the door behind him.

Bakura tried to sink back into the bathwater, but it felt too cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm not sure if I'll ever really pick this fic up again but it's just been sitting in my documents folder so I might as well share what I do have.


End file.
